Affinitas Secretum
by First Weaver
Summary: Someone's been keeping secrets...


I know I should be working on My Soul to keep, but this is an old file I've had for a while and I just thought, what the heck, put it up! Enjoy.

I do not own Rurouni Kenshin.

* * *

Halfway between sleep and waking and _much_ too hot, Kaoru tossed fretfully in the double bed she shared with her (blissfully sleeping) boyfriend. The spinning of the fan languidly stirred the turgid air, an annoying _clack-clack-clack_ keeping her from the blessed oblivion. She huffed, irritated beyond words.

She flopped her hand out, unceremoniously slapping her knuckles on Kenshin's chest.

Snuffling a little as he woke up, Kenshin propped himself up on one elbow and said, "Can't sleep, sweetheart?"

"It's too _hot_," Kaoru whined. "Remind me why we can't have air conditioning?"

"Because it's the middle of the night?" Kenshin said with an air of long suffering.

Kaoru dug her nails into his chest, and he yelped. "Because we're starving college students," he said. "And we're trying to get through my doctorate without too many student loans."

"…right." Kaoru said. Then, "Ice cream is cheaper than air conditioning."

Kenshin sighed. "Are we going out or eating what's in the freezer?"

"Do we have Chunky Chocolate Double Fudge Swirl?"

"I know better than to leave Albertson's without it."

With clear reluctance, Kenshin pried himself out of bed and tugged the chain on the lamp, cursing when he had to smack the base to produce a feeble orangish light. They would have to replace it soon.

Kaoru rolled her eyes at the sight revealed, unable to stop herself. Sleekly buff and hot with a capital H, she couldn't begin to understand why her boyfriend wore those effing yellow cotton pajamas. Admittedly they were just bottoms, and therefore left his shoulders deliciously bare, but the cotton was shapeless from what Kenshin claimed was more than a decade of use and stained where the heels were slightly too long for his petite frame. She had fantasies about cutting up the sunny monstrosity.

"C'mon," Kenshin groaned, hauling her out of bed with a helping hand. "Ice cream I will do; ice cream in bed I will not."

While Kenshin dished up unholy gobs of chocolate ice cream for her and a less generous portion for himself, Kaoru hopped up onto the counter. The cool linoleum felt like heaven on her bare legs. Kenshin handed her the heaping bowl and a spoon. "To graduation," he said, raising his bowl in a mock salute.

"To rich doctors who keep the thermostat at sixty degrees!" Kaoru replied, clinking her cheap green plastic bowl with his orange one.

Ice cream with Kenshin was very, very sweet.

* * *

"It's a real diamond, not synthetic." Kenshin said happily, inspecting the way it looked on her hand. "A paragon."

Kenshin's eyes were gleaming, and he was grinning ear to ear. Kaoru didn't know whether to die of blissful happiness or drop-dead shock.

He'd asked her to marry him. She'd said yes. That part was a fairytale come to life; he'd promised since medical school that he would propose as soon as he finished residency. He was still on his knees, still in wrinkled green OR scrubs.

The part that had made her stomach drop out was a rock (there was no other word for it) the size of a pencil eraser currently sitting on the third finger of her left hand. It caught the light, throwing fiery bands of color from every corner of the spectrum. It was the most beautiful jewel (jewel, not jewelry; she finally understood the difference) she had ever seen, much less owned.

Kaoru was sure it cost more than her car, Kenshin's car, their apartment, and her parents' house put together.

"It's too much," she breathed.

"Too much?" The smile slid off Kenshin's face, and he stood, brow furrowed. "I've seen you wear rings with bigger stones…."

"Costume jewelry!" Kaoru's voice came out as a squeak. "Kenshin, this could pay off your student loan, pay off my car, and keep us in groceries for months! How did you pay for it? You don't even have a credit card with a balance this big!"

"I've had it for a long time," Kenshin said. At her incredulous look he said, "No, really! I've had it for years, just waiting for the right time to give it to you. It's a family heirloom."

"I… I _can't…_" Kaoru tried to tug the ring from her finger, but Kenshin's much larger hand closed over hers, curling her unwilling her fingers into a fist.

"I want you to have it," he said. "You're special, Kaoru, and you deserve to have something as precious as you are—though this doesn't even come close." His mouth twitched. "If it makes you feel better, the wedding band is much simpler."

Kaoru groaned and smacked her head with her free hand. Kenshin laughed, twined his fingers with hers, and kissed them.

She was going to have to get used to presents. After all, the head surgeon had offered him a partnership in the practice.

* * *

"_Steak_." Kenshin inhaled deeply as the waitress put two china plates on the table, an expression of transcendence crossing his features. "How long has it been since we've had a good steak?"

"The barbeque at Sano's three years ago," Kaoru said promptly, slicing open her steak to check its doneness. For some reason when she told them _charred_, they always seemed to think it meant _medium-well_. This time, however, the cook seemed to have gotten it right, brown all the way through without a trace of pink, and she nodded to the waitress. Kenshin checked the juices running from his and grinned his _I'm the village idiot and you just made me very happy, so won't you love me?_ grin that melted women's hearts and made him friends in the oddest places.

Their waitress seemed immune, and after filling their water goblets she retreated in complete silence.

"No, not a Sano steak, a _good_ steak," Kenshin said, cutting himself a neat square. Kaoru averted her eyes from his plate before she could make herself nauseous. "Butter, Cabernet Sauvignon, and actual grill marks. Happiness on a plate."

"And in a glass," Kaoru said, taking a sip of her wine. It was their first anniversary dinner, so they'd splurged, big time, and it was good. "How can you stand to eat it raw?"

"Rare," Kenshin corrected.

"I said what I meant," Kaoru retorted. "There's blood on your plate. That's _so_ gross."

"I don't mess with you for your 'kill the witch, burned at the stake' dinner," Kenshin said.

"Oh ha ha, very bad pun," Kaoru said. "I just don't want my food mooing at me."

Kenshin's answering grin had something of sharpness in it. "The closer to alive, the better."

* * *

"Bill, bill, credit card offer… Magazine! Junk, junk, more junk…. Swiss National Bank?" Kaoru turned over the envelope (made of heavy, expensive, creamy paper with Kenshin's name handwritten on the front) and saw a seal of a screaming eagle in heavy red wax.

"Kenshin?" She poked her head through the French doors of his office.

He held up an index finger, not looking away from the computer screen; he was on the phone. "No, I don't think it was the ampicillin…. George, the guy had already had a quadruple bypass and he'd been a diabetic since he was fourteen. Even if the wife does sue, we told her how dangerous it was. She doesn't have a leg to stand on. I know. I know. Even if the embolus hadn't killed him, the ulcers and fungus on his feet… no, I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were eating…. Okay, see you tomorrow. Bye."

"What was that about?" Kaoru said, leaning against the heavy cherry desk. The letter she tapped against her thigh.

Kenshin scrubbed his palms across his face. "Some stupid Yank with more plaques than arteries offed himself on the table and his wife's threatening to sue," he said, vestigial European accent stronger than usual in his irritation. "George is all worked up over it."

"I hate to add to it, but do you know what this is?" Kaoru showed him the letter. "It's from Switzerland, funky stamp and everything."

"Switzerland?" The worry furrows above Kenshin's eyebrows deepened. "Let me see it."

Kaoru handed him the letter, leaning forward to get a better look in case he opened it. "It's definitely addressed to you."

"I know…." He murmured. "What could they…? Ah!" He snapped his fingers. "It's for my uncle."

"Your uncle?" Kaoru repeated. "That big jerk with the really neat car?"

"I'm his heir, so I'm co-signed on the account," Kenshin said. "It's probably just a clerical error." He rubbed his temples. "One more thing… Now I have to call and talk to Uncle Seijuro."

"You silly man," she leaned down and kissed his forehead. "You need a break. I'm breaking out the Paula Deen DVD."

"Alright." Kenshin smiled. "Takeout?"

"Because it'll be the last I get after you watch Food Network," Kaoru agreed. She started for the den, fully intending to fire up the big screen Yahiko had insisted they buy.

Then she realized she hadn't asked Kenshin what he wanted to eat, so she turned back.

Through the glass of the French doors, she could see Kenshin slitting open the letter.

_Why would he open a letter that wasn't his?_

_

* * *

_

"Kaoru-" Kenshin stood in the doorway between the master bed and bath holding the little piece of white plastic, face like a thundercloud. "What is this?"

"I can explain," Kaoru began. "I was just checking—"

"We talked about this," Kenshin said. "Did you really think you might be pregnant?"

"You love kids!" Kaoru protested. "Last Thanksgiving I couldn't pry you away from my little cousins."

"It's not a matter of what I want," Kenshin snapped. "I'm not _capable_ of having children. You know that. I told you before we ever even talked about getting engaged."

How could she explain that the thought hadn't bothered her then—they'd been younger, poor, hardly in a position to take care of themselves, much less someone else. But after holding Megumi's little Anya, feeling that warm, wriggly little body snuggle into her breast, there'd been an ache that even Kenshin's warm arms hadn't filled. She wanted a _baby_—a little boy with Kenshin's red hair and her own blue eyes.

"I know you did," Kaoru said. "But can't we even try? We could get some testing done, I mean, weirder things happen."

"You're being naïve," Kenshin said. Kaoru was too upset to see the old, knife-edge hurt in his eyes. "There's no _point._ We've been having unprotected sex for ten years. If you were going to get pregnant, you would have by now."

"I'm not naïve!" Kaoru could feel tears pricking in her eyes. "I just want to be absolutely sure! It took Misao seven years to get pregnant, and that was with in vitro!"

"You want to go get tested?" Kenshin said. "Fine. Do it. But leave me out of it."

The bedroom door slammed behind him.

* * *

"Remind me why we had to have the entire office over to our house for a Christmas party?" Kaoru huffed. This was the fifth time she had spilled olive oil trying to brush it onto the little pieces of French bread.

"It's tradition for the senior surgeon to host the office holiday party," Kenshin said patiently. "And that's us until I retire."

"Ah, great. We get to do this again next year?" Kaoru dropped the brush she'd been using. It looked like a limp, wimpy paintbrush to her, but Kenshin insisted it was a pastry brush. "I hate cooking."

"But I'm making one of your favorites," Kenshin said. "Chocolate cherry cake with homemade butter cocoa frosting. And those little apple-champagne cocktails you liked so much from last year's party."

"So why do we need the funky vegetable bread?" Kaoru said.

"To balance the palate," Kenshin said. "Too much sweet won't be as satisfying." He selected four tomatoes from the basket and sharpened the ten inch super-special chef's knife that he loved. "And it's _bruschetta_, my love."

"Tomatoes, basil, garlic, and olive oil, right?" Kaoru said. "Yuck."

"Mmm..." Kenshin crushed some of the fresh leaves between his fingers. "Yum."

"At least I know the cake will be good," Kaoru said.

"And the drinks, and the fried cheese, and the sugar cookies, and the vegetable tray, and the cheese and crackers tray." Kenshin said. "There will be plenty to eat."

"You're amazing," Kaoru said, leaning over to peck him on the cheek. "Even if you do like vegetables."

Kenshin grinned and set to dicing the tomatoes.

Troubled, Kaoru turned back to her bread and oil. Their relationship had been rocky over the past six months, ever since the letter and the fight about children. Fights, nights when Kenshin didn't come home, long hours when he was there physically but wouldn't look at her, much less speak: Frigid silences that hurt more than harsh words ever could have.

Christmas was all about love and togetherness, though, wasn't it? Maybe they could fix things during the holiday.

"Crap-!" Kenshin hissed, clutching his finger. Something red dripped onto the counter, and Kaoru's stomch dropped out.

"Are you okay?" She grabbed a towel from where it hung on the oven door and rushed around the island to his side. "I knew we shouldn't have bought those stupid 'special' knives-!"

But by the time she reached her husband, he was laughing, shaking bits of tomato off his hand. "I'm alright, love, I didn't cut myself."

"Are you sure?" Kaoru took his juice-damp hand in hers and examined his callused fingers. "I thought..."

"Me too," Kenshin said. "But I don't see a cut, do you?"

"No," Kaoru said, letting go of his hand with relief and... something else. Suspicion? "Why'd you yell?"

"Anticipation of pain can be worse than the real thing," Kenshin said, taking up the knife again. "Remember when you had to get that shot?"

How could she forget? "I'm glad you're okay."

"Me too." He grinned that disarming, fake grin that always made her want to hit him.

_What is he hiding from me?_

* * *

It was _so_ cold. Kaoru hugged her ratty blue sweater closer to herself, as close to the fire as she could manage without catching herself in a blaze. How on earth did Kenshin enjoy this camping business?

And where _was_ he? It was more than a quarter of an hour since his furtive sneaking out of the tent, presumably to use the little boys' tree. Kaoru had been too uncomfortable to go back to sleep since her personal heater of a husband had quietly vacated the area, and had come out to stir up the embers of the campfire and make a packet of instant hot cocoa.

The cocoa was now rapidly congealing into an inedible mess. Kaoru was too upset to drink any of it.

_I knew he wasn't excited about me coming on this trip, but does he hate me so much he won't even sleep next to me anymore?_ Kaoru wondered. _I hope he's not lost... or hurt... or mad..._

The woods were very quiet, much quieter than the city where she was used to sleeping. The quiet and the cold and the clear, unwavering light of the stars overhead conspired to create a lonely, wild kind of heartache that brought tears to Kaoru's eyes.

And then the stars were blotted out.

The shape was long and sinuous, dazzlingly scarlet, with a pair of great, wide wings; a sort of golden halo seemed to surround it, seemed to gleam from the golden talons and cast a numinous haze over the little clearing. The creature had a pair of beautiful yellow eyes staring from a face with an odd canine cast, long golden whiskers falling gracefully from either side of its muzzle.

If Kaoru were not a sane, intelligent, rational woman, she would think there was a _dragon_ flying by overhead, the sort that might have leapt off a cheap painting at the local Chinese buffet.

The giant flying lizard-_not dragon, dragons don't exist_-glided gently past the trees and alighted on a hill not a hundred yards from the campsite. It curled in on itself, coils like a resting serpent, and laid its chin on its paws. Back to the the tent, it stared morosely out over the night-dark landscape.

How she knew it was morose, Kaoru couldn't have said, only that the proud figure seemed in some indefinable way bowed under the weight of an indescribably heavy burden.

Throwing caution (and good sense) to the wind, she pulled her sweater closer and started up the hill.

The dragon wasn't as big as it had appeared from the ground, maybe fifteen or sixteen feet long. His eyes, however, were _huge_, like topazes the size of baseballs polished to a burnished gleam. She saw those eyes for a grand total of two seconds before the dragon leaped to its feet, wings spread wide like a cat doubling up in the presence of a big, angry dog. His motion was unspeakably elegant, a maelstrom of controlled energy like a flash of lightning across a stormy sky.

"No, don't be afraid!" Kaoru said. "I won't hurt you!"

It failed to occur to her that of the two of them, he wasn't the one who would get hurt in a tussle.

Driven by a compulsion she didn't understand, Kaoru reached out and put an open hand on his shoulder. It was hot, like the outside of an oven, and surprisingly silky.

The dragon let loose a whoosh of warm air. "Oro..."

_Nuh-uh. _That voice, that tone, that _word_-!

"Kenshin?"

"Kaoru." That was Kenshin's voice, all right, warm and gentle and just a little apprehensive. "Love, let me explain..."

"Explain, nothing!" Kaoru stamped her foot and tugged _hard_ on that golden mane. Ooo, soft, and a little staticky. "You're a DRAGON, and you didn't TELL ME?"

"I..." the great, proud head hung. "I'm sorry. I should have, but it was... difficult. I mean, at first we were just dating, and you probably would have sent me to the crazy house if I told you I was a mythical creature. After that, it just... never came up."

"The heat... the bank account... the accent... the raw meat... the children... _oh_," Kaoru realized. "It makes sense."

Warm and sinuous, Kenshin wrapped coils around her, a scent of woodsmoke and ginger filling her nose. "I am sorry," he said, his chest a vibrating rumble like thunder against her back. "If you want to leave, I won't-"

"_Kenshin you moron!_"

Reeling and cross-eyed from the unexpected blow, Kenshin said, "Oro..."

"I'm not leaving you!" Hands on her hips, Kaoru gave her errant husband a piece of her mind. "And if you even _try _leaving me, buster, I'll make you eat my cooking. You are my husband, and I promised for better or worse. Now let's go back to the tent, get warm, and talk about _exactly _what you haven't been telling me."

* * *

Between one blink and the next, Kenshin changed from a mythological creature to the husband she'd known for seven years. Unclothed, no less, but the chill of the outdoor spring air didn't seem to bother him. He walked over to her and put both hands on her shoulders, golden eyes seriously searching her face.

"I'll tell you everything," he said. "Anything you want to know."

"Good." Kaoru normally would have looped her arm through Kenshin's, cuddling up to his body heat; but for the moment she kept her distance, a little unsure of herself—and of him. And even from a foot away, he _wasn't_ just warm natured, he was as hot as though a furnace under his skin; it kept the nighttime chill at bay. So much now made sense, so many things fallen into place.

Kenshin slipped into the tent to slip on a pair of jeans while Kaoru stirred up the fire. Now that the shock of _mythical creature!_ had worn off, she was beginning to wonder where her precarious relationship would go next.

"You have that look on your face," Kenshin said, sitting on the log beside her—but not too close, as if he wanted to give her space. "The one that means you're about to get your way."

"You bet I am," Kaoru retorted, but her heart was pounding and her palms were damp. "How many... dragons... are there? You are a dragon, right?"

Kenshin nodded. "I am. But there are a lot fewer of my people than there used to be. After the massacre, it's just... me and Shishou."

"Just two?" Kaoru said. "What _happened_?"

"The Order of Saint George." Kenshin said, and there was old, old pain on his face. "They were on a mission to destroy anything not human; they succeeded with the unicorns, the selkies... and the dragons."

_Other stories come to life are not important,_ Kaoru thought. _Kenshin's whole family was murdered._ "I'm sorry," she said.

"It's been a long time," Kenshin said. "More than a hundred years."

"A hundred... How old do dragons live to be?" Kaoru gasped.

"My grandfather was six centuries when he died," Kenshin said. "He was the oldest dragon I've ever known, but he wasn't _old_. So I guess I don't know."

"How old are you, then?" Kaoru asked.

"How old, indeed..." He began counting on his fingers, brow furrowed in mock concentration.

"Kenshin!"

He grinned, just a little. "I was born in June of 1839. I will be one hundred seventy-one years old this year."

"Whoo." Kaoru blew out a breath. "When Misao said I like older men, she wasn't kidding."

"There's something else you should know," Kenshin said seriously. "When you accepted the stone I gave you, when we... made love, a bond was formed. I suspect you will live as long as I do."

"Suspect?" Kaoru repeated.

"Dragon magic is unpredictable at best," Kenshin said. "It responds to emotion. I don't know what I'm capable of."

There was a story there, Kaoru was sure, but now wasn't the time.

"So I guess it's hard to have kids with someone who's not your species," Kaoru said.

"Oh, Kaoru..." Reaching out, Kenshin pulled her into a one-armed hug, and Kaoru relaxed into the familiar hold. He seemed pleasantly surprised. "I'm so sorry. If there was any way-"

"I'm just glad I have a reason," Kaoru said. "I'm glad you finally decided to tell me."

_I'm glad I have my husband back. Even if he is a giant lizard._

Taking advantage of his proximity, Kaoru tilted her head up and caught his mouth in a kiss. Was it her imagination, or was there a slightly metallic taste on his tongue?

"We can talk more in the morning," she said. "We do need some sleep tonight."

"...I love you," he said, sweet and just a little shy. Then, with just a touch of wickedness, "And who said we were going to sleep?"

Kaoru squealed as he scooped her up and ducked into the tent. She certainly had no intention of going to sleep _now_.

Not when the love of her life was in her arms.


End file.
